I was going to wait awhile to write this post in hopes I wouldn't have to write it at all...though now I'm thinking that Murphy's Law will prevail and moments after writing about my lost/dead cat, she'll appear at the backdoor. One can only hope.
In truth, I have very little faith right now that Sophie will be coming home. It has been over a week since I last saw her for sure, and 1 weeks since I definitely noticed that she was missing. Sophie was an indoor/outdoor kitty...she was mostly indoors for the first 5 or so years of her life...and then erratic behavior and the addition of a newborn led to her being let outside from time to time. She never strayed far, at any point in time I could usually spot her if she was outside...on the deck, on the patio, maybe on the other side of the house in the landscaped beds. She usually wanted inside within 10 minutes of being out, and then back out again 10 minutes later. She was always around.
Tuesday afternoon I noticed I when I cleaned her litter box it was mostly empty. I thought about it, and realized I couldn't remember seeing her that day. I groaned, thinking she was in the basement or locked in the guest room (which has happened many times) and I was probably going to find a mess. I went about my day, looking for her in the closest, bedrooms, basement, and peeking at all the doors as I walked by them, thinking maybe she was out and I just didn't notice. I went to bed Tuesday night confident that she must be outside, and figured I'd see her in the morning. She had spent the night out lots of times...usually because she was too finicky to come in when I wanted her to. I doubt she ever left the deck, since in the mornings she was always on the picnic table meowing desperately.
Wednesday morning dawned, and no Sophie. I checked over the house again--in the washer and dryer, in the toybox, random places she could have been trapped. I drove up along the road, looking for her. Wednesday night I started to realize it was highly unlikely that she was coming home. Thursday morning came--no Sophie. G3 and Mickey and I strolled the property for about an hour, no sign. Thursday evening we left for our wine weekend, and I sadly put out some food on the deck and lined up my petsitter to come check for her. Sunday we returned...and no Sophie. The food had not been touched.
Its now been over a week since I last definitely remember seeing her--last Monday evening while we were doing some yardwork she was stalking something along the edge of the fence, not an unusual behavior for her. I have hypothosized all week about what could have happened to her. At first it was benign sort of things that led to her coming home...she was out hunting, she had been at the door but I'd missed her, she was mildly hurt but would eventually make her way home.
As the week passed, my imaginings have taken a sadder turn. She could have been hit by a car...though I did not find any evidence of this on the road near our house, and I have never once seen her anywhere even remotely close to the road. Could she have wandered away, been found by someone else and taken into their home? Unlikely: she wasn't what you would call a friendly cat. She could be downright vicious at times. I can't imagine any situation that she would allow a complete stranger to approach let alone pick her up.
Its hunting season...was she caught in a trap? Shot? Did a wild animal get her, something like a fox or coyote or stray dog? She didn't have front claws so even a fight with another cat might have ended poorly. If she was trapped in a livetrap was she simply released or did the trapper take her to the SPCA? I don't even want to thing about other kinds of traps. Did she get stuck somewhere during her hunting? Again, just can't see her going far enough away that I wouldn't have found her if she was stuck. Did she ingest something poisonous and then crawl off somewhere? And of course, I can't escape the thought that she was an all-black cat who disapeared just a few days before Halloween.
I suppose, unless she comes back, I will never know what happened and this makes me so sad. I honestly feel like finding her body somewhere would be better, at least I'd have closure and know that she wasn't somewhere suffering. I had her for 7 or 8 years, and she was always something of an evil cat, even from kittenhood. She liked to bite, she didn't like being messed with, didn't like being picked up, didn't back down easily. She was declawed after finding that she'd destroyed the side of one of our leather chairs (and the fact that a child would soon be entering our household.) She had a loving relationship with Mickey, they often could be found sleeping on the dog bed together, and she of course liked to attack him, tackling him around the neck and biting.
Surprisingly, she was very tolerant of Gabey. He didn't show much interest in her other than pointing out her existence if she walked through the room, yelling "SOAPY!" She basically didn't like other people, in particular my sister Kellie, who received several injuries and had been cornered and 1 point (by a 7# cat). She never had any health issues. She and Gabe (G2) were arch enemies: each one hated the other. She had a fondness for me mostly, and occassionally another individual (my mom, and Kellie during the period she lived with us.) She loved to jump into my lap and curl up when I was watching TV or taking a nap, but that was the extent of her affection. She wasn't the kind of cat most people would love, or even like, but I could appreciate her. She had her moments.
Much of my sadness comes from knowing that I will never have another cat. Gabe is not fond of them, not to mention allergic, and it was always sort of an unwritten agreement that once Sophie passed on, we would not be getting another. I guess I just didn't expect it to be so soon. Although I grew up my whole life with cats (in fact, this is the first time--minus my freshman year in the dorm--that I am cat-less) I have never been a "cat person", I've always preferred dogs. But it makes me sad to think about never having one again, unless a stray shows up and sticks around long enough to earn a name and a foodbowl.
I wonder how long it will be before I stop peering out the deck and patio doors as I walk by, hoping to see her big eyes and pointed face, begging to come in. I am trying my best not to think too much about it, after all...its just a cat, and its a cat I didn't even particularly LIKE. But I did love her, and I am missing her presence. I have yet to dismantle the catbox and food dishes, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, she is out there and she'll be home soon. Where ever she is, dead or alive, I hope that there is no suffering.
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